


Baby, I Love You!

by yourmothersmeatloaf



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Other, Suicide, Triggers, i warned you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4187496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourmothersmeatloaf/pseuds/yourmothersmeatloaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TRIGGER<br/>WARNING</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, I Love You!

It isn't about breaking. It's about being broken. About being held together with cheap, cheap material that isn't quite right for the job. About how it can get so high but once it's there it gets too reckless. It breaks again and eventually you know that there is really no point in trying to save the thing anymore, that it's broken and you don't have the materials to fix it. That you dont even want to try to fix it anymore, because it's just stupid. It's beyond repair so you just throw it out, and its hard what with the energy and time devoted into it...but it just isn't worth it anymore.  
Life is an object. The most rare, expensive, irreplaceable object out there. Once its broken it cannot be fixed. All you can do is let it collect dust or just throw it out.  
Do what you can manage. It is just so hard to look at objects collect dust, isn't it? What is the point of doing that? Keeping a broken, dusty object. It sits there and reminds you of the good ol' days, days where everything seemed to be okay. Where there was never that feeling in your gut saying, "What now today?" Or that voice in your head saying, "Today is the day it all blows to pieces".  
You know how lucky you are, to be where you are, who you are. But you also know how you have fucked it up. How you took that wonderful chance at a nice, sparkling future, and traded it for fear and malice.  
These nights, when you think of the hurting people, you smile at the ceiling as tears pour from your eyes, hot down your already burning skin. But what can you do? You messed up and that was that. Continuously. Day after day...  
Rose, Dave, Jade, Jake, Dirk and Roxy.  
They hurt. They are hurting...because of you. Vriska decided after a year to tell you all about the things you missed. The people, the wonderful people, who wanted to take their lives because of you. How much you hurt them.  
Your skin is scarred. An inadequate amount of hurt compared to that you cast unto others. The mental torment you experience each day, each night. It is not enough! You needed to cease breathing. Every move you make is a mockery of them. It is as if you are saying, "Yeah. You know what I did? I am getting away with it."  
The worst...no the best part. The fact that they will never know of your pain. They will hate you forever when they see you smile at your friends. They will hate how they cannot see scars on your skin. Because they don't know. They don't know how often you think of them.  
How each night, as your skin burns, that you pray to a God that you know is there, but is keeping his back turned to you. You pray for him to kill you. But he is there, ignoring you. Your soul which is unappealing to both Heaven and Hell.  
What can you do now that something is in the past?  
You love them. Now and always. That is one more thing out of your control, but for once something you want to hold onto. A love for the most amazing people you think you could ever meet.  
The one you hurt the most was the one you loved the most. Near the end you'd quickly stutter and snuff our your "I love you." He would tell you, "You can say it." But you knew you couldn't. You knew it hurt both of you. You stopped. But still every time you see him you think it.  
It is him you think about the most when you tear your skin open. When you think about how you've got to end yourself. But if course you can't do that. No. Isn't your selfishness what got you here originally?  
You don't care what other people want. For an admittedly unworthy human being you certainly treat yourself like more.  
But you just smile.  
Smile at the blood you see on your arm. Knowing every ounce of pain you felt made you feel like you have repaid just a small fraction of the pain which you have inflicted.  
You stare down at the length of rope you've managed to nab from your father. You think about it.  
Rose is the only one who managed to stay your friend, though you like to think it is out of pity. She tells you how bad it would be to commit suicide. But you disagree. You do not want to die, the thought alone scares you shitless, but it was something you needed to do. You feel like you deserve it.  
Yes, you have managed to obtain new friends. But it will never be the same. The words of those who used to love you circulate in your brain. You are aware of what you do. You can't stop it. Your friends can never truly be your friends. Your girlfriend can never truly get what she deserves from you.  
You will never love again. You didn't only vow it, you had no control over it.  
You heart isn't broken, it is gone.  
Incapable of feeling, loving, breaking. It is a machine, doing what it is told, pumping blood. You wish it would stop.  
You considered the object in your hand. You decide that maybe you don't need to die...  
Then immediately your brain snaps at you. It has teeth.  
"That is exactly why you are holding that in the first place. Is it what you want or what they want? Imagine the happy faces...the closure..."  
That is it. All you need. You say nothing. Not that anyone would have taken you too seriously. You tend to make a lot of suicidal comments, no one would believe you this time anyways. Good, because you don't want anyone to worry.  
You tuck the rope into the pocket of your sweater. Only it isn't yours. You forgot you stole your friends sweater earlier that day. You can't tell if it is grey or green. It is very big on you. It doesn't look nice. Nothing looks too good on you.  
You take off the sweater and place it on your bed, scribbling your friends name down on a paper and placing it over the garment so your parents would know who it belongs to.  
You then replace the sweater with one of your own and place the rope within one of those pockets. You head out.  
Not too long ago-- perhaps a year, perhaps longer-- a girl hung herself exactly where you plan to do it.  
If anyone could understand, it will be her.  
It is evening during summer but it is a pleasant crisp day. You like the feeling of the ground beneath your sneakers. Too bad that isn't something you will feel as you died. Instead you get the imitation of flight.  
This could work too.  
You smile, back against the sun. The perfect analogy. You spread your arms and spin around, unable to contain your laughter. It feels s weightless, so free. You love it! Knowing how close you are to being free of it all, so close to such happy people! You smile larger up at the light blue sky.  
"I love you!" You yell it loudly, not caring who hears. You hope they hear.  
"I love you so much! I never stopped!"  
This is when you realize the tears.  
"Baby, I love you!"


End file.
